


Greetings

by sabinelagrande



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Vacation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-30
Updated: 2015-07-30
Packaged: 2018-04-12 01:20:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4459769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sabinelagrande/pseuds/sabinelagrande
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first step to any romantic vacation: christening the hotel room.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Greetings

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JeziBelle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JeziBelle/gifts).



"It's so hot," Dorian moans, flopping ungracefully onto the bedspread as Bull puts down the luggage. "Aren't you hot?"

"It's not so bad," Bull says, despite the fact that he's wearing more clothing than usual. This includes a bright pink Hawaiian shirt that is a crime against all known fashion. Dorian's concerned that Bull might try to keep this shirt after they leave.

"I'm burning up," Dorian complains.

"You're the one who wanted to go somewhere tropical," Bull says, though he turns down the A/C.

Dorian sighs, enjoying the breeze from the vent overhead. "And I'm sure I'll be very pleased with this decision once I've acclimated to this heat," he says. "Unless I melt first."

Bull walks over, and Dorian almost shies out of the way when Bull puts a hand on his cheek, wary of even more heat. Instead, Bull's fingers are pleasantly cool, and Dorian leans into them.

"You seem like you're in one piece so far," Bull says. "But if you're so bad off, maybe you should get out of all those clothes."

"Shut the curtains," Dorian says, already undressing, not even pretending he doesn't know what that statement actually means. "And take off that shirt."

"Aw, do I have to?" Bull says, grinning. "It glows in the dark."

Dorian throws his own shirt at Bull's head. He knows Bull isn't kidding, but somehow, Dorian still wants to sleep with him.

Maker help him, but he's in love.

Dorian unzips his pants, pushing them off with his underwear and letting the whole tangle of it fall carelessly to the floor. He rolls onto his stomach, looking back over his shoulder at Bull. "Well? Are you just going to let me get cold?"

"Make up your mind," Bull says, dropping the awful Bermuda shorts that go with his terrible outfit before digging around in a suitcase. "Are you hot or are you cold?"

"Come here and find out for yourself," Dorian tells him, stretching in an entirely calculated manner. He actually is getting a little bit cool, overzealous air conditioning hitting his slightly sweaty skin, but he doesn't complain. He's definitely going to be hot in a few minutes.

He's expecting Bull's weight at his back, kisses down his spine, but that's not what happens. Instead Bull sits down on the bed and gathers him up, arranging Dorian in his lap, his thighs bracketing Bull's.

"Hi," Bull says softly, grinning a slightly dopey and entirely charming grin.

"Hi yourself," Dorian returns, putting his arms around Bull's neck and kissing him soundly.

"Hmm," Bull says when they part, more rumble than anything else. "You don't seem cold to me."

"You do warm me up a bit," Dorian says. Bull is already slicking his fingers, and Dorian is momentarily torn between teasing him about moving so fast and demanding that he do it faster. It's been a long week of finishing things that must be done before travelling, and it feels like ages since he's had Bull's hands on him. There will be plenty of time for rest and relaxation, but right at this moment, what he really wants most is the connection, the feeling of Bull next to him, inside of him.

Bull reaches around him, stroking Dorian's hole for a moment before he starts to push his fingers inside. He's being careful, Dorian knows, but Dorian's not having it. He pushes back, taking Bull's fingers in deeper, greedy for more.

"Always so hot for me, kadan," Bull says, bending to suck a mark onto Dorian's neck. Dorian has been known to be skittish about such things, but now he pushes into it, wanting Bull on his skin. Right now it feels like part of the luxury of vacation; he can walk around with as many hickeys as he likes, and all he'll be is another slightly indiscreet beachgoer, yet another tourist who paid a hefty sum to spend most of his time holed up in a hotel room with his boyfriend.

"Amatus," Dorian breathes, wrapping his hands around Bull's horns; Bull positively growls against Dorian's skin, sucking harder. "Amatus, I need you now, _please_ -"

"Shit," Bull says, sliding his fingers out, and he sounds as desperate as Dorian feels. "Hold on."

Dorian is about to protest, but he realizes the problem; Bull is patting around on the mattress, no doubt looking for the wayward bottle of lube. Dorian spots it first, wedged under Bull's thigh- and, mercifully, still firmly closed- grabbing it and flicking it open. He pours a generous amount of it into his hand before closing it and setting it down out of the way. Dorian reaches between them, wrapping his hand around Bull's cock and stroking, spreading the lube thoroughly.

"That's good," Bull says, nudging Dorian's hand away, and Dorian lets himself be moved, lets Bull lift him up; he grabs on to Bull's horns again as Bull starts to press inside of him, a little at a time. Dorian wants more, wants it all, but Bull's grip keeps him from moving. He can't do anything but take it, just as fast or as slow as Bull wants to give it to him.

Bull doesn't let him go until he's all the way inside; he smooths his hands up Dorian's chest as Dorian starts to rock his hips, feeling the stretch of it, the satisfaction of having Bull in him as far as he can go. Dorian raises himself up just to sink back down again, riding Bull in a slow, easy rhythm. There's so much time now, a solid week that stretches out in front of him, no priorities except getting Bull to fuck him on every flat surface of this room. It seems like a shame to rush.

"That's right," Bull says, his hips lifting up to meet Dorian's. "Take it how you want it. I've got you."

Dorian rests his forehead against Bull's; up close, Bull's eye is dark with pleasure. "And I've got you," he says, before kissing Bull thoroughly.

The pace builds steadily, gradually. Soon enough Bull's hands are on his hips again, holding him fast as Bull thrusts up into him over and over again, hard and deep and exactly what Dorian needs most. He kisses Bull over and over again, kisses that turn hot and messy, broken up by moans and panted encouragements.

Dorian throws his head back as he comes, groaning loudly, and he can feel it when Bull follows him, the clench of his fingers, the pulse of his cock. Dorian puts his arms around Bull's neck, holding him close as they recover; Bull turns his head, leaving a string of kisses up Dorian's jaw, his hands on Dorian's back, big fingers splayed out to touch as much as possible.

"That was a good start," Dorian says, long minutes later.

"How about we order some room service, drink some overpriced champagne, and see how good we can get?" Bull asks, with a grin.

"That," Dorian says, pausing for a kiss, "sounds like the ideal vacation to me."


End file.
